Birthdays are the worst. The absolute fucking worst.

First.

Half of the world thinks you deserve something free on your birthday. Dessert. Dinner. An app.

Another half run around being all sneaky so you can deliver a dessert with a candle as if Burt didn’t know you were there celebrating his birthday. It’s just a coincidence that you invited him to dine with you on his birthday.

Others want a birthday song. Bennigan’s ruined it for us. Happy Happy Birthday. Ugh.

At the Hard Rock we did shout outs.

Screaming as loud as you could.

CAN I HAVE EVERYONE’S ATTENTION. THIS IS SALLY. TODAY IS HER BIRTHDAY. ON THE COUNT OF THREE WERE GOING TO WISH HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY. ONE. TWO. THEEE!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Today a woman comes in and says she’s here for her reservation. She’s early.

She then explains it’s her friends birthday and wants to know if we do desserts?

What does that even mean?

No. We are an upscale restaurant but if you want dessert you have to drive they Dunkin Donuts.

Do you mean free desserts? No. We don’t give you free stuff for being born.

Order dessert. Tell your server. They’ll put a candle in your chocolate cake.

Oh.

And yes.

You may bring in your own dessert. Be it cake. Cupcakes. Cheesecake. Pie. Scones. Hershey bars. Ice cream.

But there will be a $5 plating charge. Not because we do anything. But to cover the coat of you NOT ordering dessert from us.

So have a birthday.

We all do.

But know, we won’t give you anything free. We won’t do a shout out, unless you give me $20, but we will give you a candle.

I never stop for food on my way home. Never.

Tonight however, I was craving Burger King. This is especially important because I’ve been eating super healthy since the start of the new year.

So I get in line.

There were about 8 cars ahead of me. This shouldn’t take long.

It’s also a situation where once you are in line, you are in line. You can’t escape.

So I pick up my phone, check email, look at Facebook.

We are not moving.

Finally a car goes through. Then another.

Then nothing. No movement at all.

20 minutes and I’ve moved two cars.

Finally we move again.

The car in front of me gets to the speaker. The person says, I’ll take your order in a few minutes we have around 50 Door Dash orders. The guy in the car says I am from Door Dash. He’s told to pull around.

I get to the speaker.

Hi. I’ll be with you in a moment.

I start to drive off but at this point it’s been 30 minutes. What’s a few more minutes?

Finally I give my order. I drive around.

There are no cars in the line.

I get to the window and the guy in the car behind me is giving a crazy complicated order. Special requests. Separate orders. The guy on register is trying to be calm but you can tell he’s frazzled.

He finishes the order and looks at me. He looks like he’s going to cry.

I ask how he’s doing.

He says at the moment they have 50+ door dash orders. A line of cars. And it’s only him and one other employee in the building.

I smile and tell him that I understand. Just to breathe and it won’t last forever. It will end eventually. It always ends.

He nods.

He says another employee should be there any minute now.

He hands me my drink. My food. I remind him to breathe.

I felt bad for him. I’ve been there. I wish I’d had a way to help.

I drive away. Eating my cold French fries.